


someone will return to say hello

by electricheart



Category: Black Clover - 田畠裕基 | Tabata Yuki
Genre: AU - Patry reincarnates in Langris Vaude instead of William Vangeance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Work In Progress, tags added per update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 05:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricheart/pseuds/electricheart
Summary: He, like his brethren, seeslightbefore the end, amidst screams and the stench of death and betrayal.He, like those who did not die immediately, feels the mana of their people, once vibrant and calm and full of joy, turn into a miasma of malevolence and a promise ofrevenge.He, unlike his brethren, sees light at the beginning, at the start of his new purpose; holy retribution against the vile creatures called humans.





	someone will return to say hello

**Author's Note:**

> AU - Patry reincarnates in Langris Vaude instead of William Vangeance
> 
> #Since, from what I remember do tell me if I'm wrong, Tabata hasn't given us a calendar to follow so I went and made up my own, 1 Anno Mageía Rex being the year that the demon was defeated by the first wizard king.  
> #The current year in canon rn would be 567 Anno Mageía Rex, or per my terrible google translate latin, "in the year of the Wizard King"  
> #so we have the centuries the Queen of the Witch's Forest talked about, but not enough for it to be almost a whole millennia  
> #I was going to use _Magia_ instead but _Mageía_ , the original greek, felt better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #no beta, we die like men  
> #(but if you could point out spelling or grammar mistakes i'd be forever gratefull)
> 
> #CW: The Elf Massacre, including the death of Licht and Tetia's child, ahead

Ten days before the implementation of a new calendar

-

Anno Mageía Rex

 

* * *

 

 

It used to be said, by clans now long gone and dead, by a single witch hidden deep in her forest, that the reason why forbidden magic needed to disappear was not because it corrupted the mana of the world. Mana, after all, could be corrupted by intense feelings from all the creatures of the world - through wrath, despair, and hate- just as it could also be cleansed - through compassion, hope, and love. Mana belongs to all living things after all, it used to be said. It was in the people, in the animals, in the plants, in the very air.

And forbidden magic at it's core was nothing more than demonic magic and even demons were part of the world, no matter how few or dormant.

Yet their magic for all its power, for all the terrible things that could be brought upon the lands, for all the things it promised to the casters, was _unreliable_. Demons were not remotely kind. No matter what they promised to give, what they demanded in exchange far outweighed what the caster wanted in the first place. If someone wanted infinite riches entire kingdoms had to fall, still the caster would get them- and be buried with it all to be forgotten to the rest of the world. The demons would make all sorts of deals, all lies and contradictions but all to the last word from the caster's lips and laugh as the world was burned down to ashes over and over again. They were, after all, _chaos_ itself.

Still though they tried the demons could never flourish. For all they existed in the world since the beginning of time, they could not all _live_ at the same time. Demons were bound- to contracts, to bloodlines, to objects, to curses of their own, into deep slumbers, waiting ever patient for the next time they would be brought back into the world to render it to ruin once more.

Ever patient.

Ever ready.

More than ready.

So when one man, one elf, a Child of Promise loved by mana and destined to bring good into the world forsakes it and all life upon it, one demon in particular pounces. Blood, and death, and hate, and despair, great hordes of mana being corrupted and one, one particular strong and unique soul- the purest of mana, a new life. All combined with the mana's Child of Promise's fall from grace. It couldn't have stayed away even if it had wanted to- and the demon hadn't wanted to stay away at all.

So it promised this one broken man, surrounded by all those he loved and the body of the woman he treasured, power for _justice_. Power to do onto his enemies what they have done onto his people. Power to pay them in kind. Power most of all to bring them _back_. Eye for an eye, one human for one elf until the wrong was been re-written. Until all is right in his world again.

All for one soul, just _one_.

And the broken man says, "Take it!", when he means, "Then take my soul!"

And the laughs and says, "With pleasure!"

So the new life becomes the sacrifice the demon needs for access to their full powers, yet they also need a new body now. Sure, their presence alone could cause quite the terror, multiple possessions always do cause a ruckus with the people, but with a physical body of their own they would bring forth the end of this era.

So the man becomes their new body before he even realizes it.

And the demon, because they _did_ _promise_ after all, scatters the souls of the dead before they can pass on.

They'll float on, re-living their last moments over and over and over again until they find their new hosts.

But they'll come back.

Eventually.

_If_ they can find new hosts- but that's no longer the demon's problem.

 

* * *

 

(But one man, one human, stops the demon. One man, a fellow Child of Promise. One man, a loving brother, the second youngest of five siblings. One man, kind and idealistic born to a cruel woman and an even crueler man. One man, who was too weak, too slow, to save his friends and his sister and her unborn child he wanted to spoil and be a fun uncle to. One man, who recognized his best friend in the monster destroying his kingdom. One man, who knew the fault lied in his family so he would have to fix their mistake.

One man, who killed the demon.

One man, who killed his best friend.

One man, who would be hailed as a hero.

One man, who would be turned into a puppet and then martyred for and by the same people who brought upon ruin to the realm in the first place.)

 

* * *

 

(One man, who doesn't realize he has freed his friend's soul from the demon but that it too has been affected by the forbidden magic of the demon's reincarnation spell, doomed to wander until it finds a suitable host.) 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

12th Month, 556 Anno Mageía Rex

 

In the mansion of House Vaude, the staff is running around wild. The head of House Vaude and his wife are away for the evening attending a ball thrown by House Vangeance in honor of Alberic Vangeance's son William, becoming a member of the Silver Eagles in the coming weeks, after he takes his Magic Knight Initiation with other noble children his age. The staff of House Vaude could care less for a bastard child being dolled up for his father's little farce, even with how entertaining noble gossip can get. The staff have much bigger problems to face at the moment.

The Vaude's chosen instructor had bailed, ran like a coward after young Master Langris had collapsed, most than likely from the rigorous training the man subjects him to. There's not a single maid and butler who isn't currently cursing that man to all hells possible. For one, _he_ won't feel their lord's wrath not like they will as soon as their lord returns. For another thing, no matter what, young Master Langris is in their care, and for him to be hurt under their watch is the worst thing they could face. And lastly, none of them want to see whatever their lord has instore for the young master for his apparent failure to excel. _He's just a child_ , they think, _just a child_. 

(They can't help young Master Finral, not anymore. They've failed him. They will not fail young Master Langris.)

But all the healers, the ones employed by Lord Vaude and the ones the staff dragged in, inconspicuously as possible, can't find any fault in the young boy, not even exhaustion. He's healthy as a horse, they say. And still their young master lies in his room, being watched over by his older brother who snuck inside it, still as the dead.

_Something's wrong_ , is the thought that crosses all of their minds.

Though they can't understand it, they can feel _it_.

It has been centuries since this particular land had felt demonic magic. The people no longer know how to recognize it for what it is. They don't know the signs.

They can't see the soul that had been following Langris around for days until it finally managed to latch onto the boy. They can't see, thought they can feel, the way his mana flutters and falls.

They can't see the near death needed for the rebirth.

They don't know, not Finral, doing his best not to blink so he can make sure his little brother doesn't so much a give a flinch of discomfort, not the Head Butler, digging as fast as he can through House Vaude's library books for anything past family members could have gone through, not any of the maids, running around directing healers and cooks alike to ready whatever may be needed for their young master.

None of them know, that when Langris of House Vaude opens his eyes-

It's not Langris at all.

 

* * *

 

 

(None in House Vaude know that in a snowing town kilometers away, inside a grimoire tower is a young man, ditching the ball thrown in his honor, clutching his grimoire as he looks over to his mentor of two years, the captain of the Azure Deers who is ecstatic to know exactly just what magic he'll be seeing from now on, and the closest thing the young man has for a friend, a foreigner two years his elder who throws a simple, but just as supportive, thumbs up his way.

None in House Vaude know, nor the two others in attendance at the grimoire tower know, that one particular soul had latched onto said young man earlier in the day. None of them know that the curse that gives him his scar is the very thing that protected him from the fate Langris is facing at that same moment. None of them know that Licht of the Elf tribe had almost awakened. None of them know that the elf that did awaken was second only to Licht in his wish for blood and death and retribution against human kind.

None of them will know until it's too late, that _this_ is the worst possible outcome.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #I def. don't think the first Wizard King was the one who killed Licht and his people especially because Tetia was also a casualty we saw (the figure Patry sees casting the reincarnation spell is more than likely Licht carrying Tetia) but I def. think someone from his family/human friends had to have done it- taking the information of where the wedding would be from him probably by force, or by accident in the WK's part, and then keeping him preoccupied while they went and got rid of them all, esp. Tetia and her child.  
> #I want to believe that even if Finral's and Langris' parents are shit that at least whatever caretakers they had gave a damn about them, even if they kept their distance bc social status and whatnot  
> #I had to give William a friend since I took Patry so he gets Yami  
> #you're very welcome William

**Author's Note:**

> #Tabata had my full attention until he told us Licht wasn't Licht but that one elf that reminded me of Langris and kinda said Not!Licht reincarnated where Licht should have (William)((?)) or something  
> #Or Something...  
> #...iguess!!.jpeg
> 
> #heads up for future chapters- child abuse, physical, emotional, and psychological, will be portrayed ie. William with his step mother and his father, Finral and Langris with their parents pitying them against one another, and Patry's trauma from the slaughter of his people a day before he turned fifteen


End file.
